The guinea fowl rice dish was molded into the shape of a cat and topped with a thin omelet. The features were drawn on with demi-glace, and its two round eyes appeared to be small beads of chocolate.
Getting those chocolate eyes just right turned out to be a great struggle. Marquess Lichtenberger went back and forth with the chefs before finally finding chocolate from a downtown candy shop that was the exact color of Tigraki eyes. He brought it back with him for the chefs to recreate.
The dish was also served with two meatballs on the side—meant to represent how much the Tigraki in their custody loved to play with balls. The meal’s utter perfection was overwhelming. Marquess Lichtenberger practically trembled.
So cute! The marquess gulped, swallowing those words before they could sneak out of his mouth.
“Where’s the postcard?”
“Right here.”
“I see.”
The bureau’s record keeper had provided an adorable illustration of a Tigraki. Seeing it alongside the explanatory text, Marquess Lichtenberger gave a satisfied nod.
“It turned out nicely.”
“I’ll inform the others that you’re pleased.”
“Good. Now leave me be.”
“Yes, Director!”
As soon as the secretary and server were out the door, Marquess Lichtenberger retrieved a binder from his desk and stuck the Tigraki postcard inside. He’d been secretly collecting postcards from his favorite meals, always taking a look at them when he felt overwhelmed by life.
After taking a moment to appreciate his growing collection, he stuck the binder back inside the drawer. He couldn’t allow himself to get distracted. The Tigraki omelet rice was something to be eaten while it was still hot.
Marquess Lichtenberger started with a spoonful of soup to warm his belly. It was a well-made consommé with vegetables that had been cooked until they were tender.
Next, he tried the salad and found the lettuce to be of perfect crunchiness. Finally, he grabbed his spoon to scoop up some of the Tigraki omelet rice.
“Ah!”
As he brought the spoon in closer, he realized he was on the verge of ruining the dish’s cuteness. However, he couldn’t let good food go to waste. The marquess gritted his teeth and sank his spoon into the omelet.
That perfect Tigraki face collapsed inward. Sadness welled up in the marquess, but he managed to fight it off.
Finally, he brought a scoop of rice and egg up to his mouth.
Marquess Lichtenberger could hardly believe it. Every last grain of rice was cooked to perfection, and the tomato sauce was the perfect addition to give it an acidic touch. The guinea fowl meat inside was shredded and lent a savory flavor to the rest of the dish as well.
Even the eggs had been cooked perfectly, leaving the omelet incredibly thin without any browning at all—the exact color of a Tigraki’s fur. These eggs had a slightly sweet taste to them.
The meatballs were made from ground three-horned cow and boar-pig meats. Biting into one, Marquess Lichtenberger found it to be incredibly tender. A mixture of mushrooms and spices gave it an extra kick. But the meatballs were best when dipped in that demi-glace.
Today’s Tigraki omelet rice received 100 million points out of 100. The marquess made sure to record this score in his notebook.
After his lunch, he was brought that day’s dessert—a Tigraki-shaped cookie.
Marquess Lichtenberger stood up—cookie in one hand and a cup of tea in the other—as he gazed out his window. There he spotted the Tigraki napping in his cage. He wasn’t moving a muscle, but that didn’t bother the marquess. Cookies tasted much better while simultaneously gazing at a mythical beast. His cup of black tea also had a particularly delectable flavor that day.
After finishing the meal, the marquess attended meetings and completed paperwork until the evening. Then he sent Rou home so he could do a bit of overtime.
“U-Um, Director, are you not…going home?”
“I’ll leave in an hour or so.”
“I see. Um…in that case, I’ll be taking my leave now.”
“Sure.”
Once Rou was gone, the marquess turned his attention to his paperwork and began to move his pen. It wasn’t anything demanding urgent attention. So why was Marquess Lichtenberger putting in so much effort? Well, that was because there was no one waiting for him at home.
Liselotte had left on an expedition, sending word that she wouldn’t be back that night.
Album had left for greener pastures.
He didn’t have the slightest expectation of his wife returning home.
He thought he’d become accustomed to loneliness by now, but confronting it was still painful.
Marquess Lichtenberger wondered if others had mistaken him for a widower.
One time, an acquaintance had offered to introduce him to a woman. This enraged the marquess so much that he physically kicked the acquaintance out of the room.
The thought of having a relationship with a woman other than his wife made him shudder. Men of that ilk repulsed him.
But he’d once been told that this way of thinking was highly unusual. They said that part of being a man is following your natural instincts and loving as many women as possible.
Such rules meant nothing to Marquess Lichtenberger. He simply didn’t feel love and affection for very many things.
It was a loose, foolish definition of what it meant to be a man. Those sorts would be much better off declaring that they were the types who loved lots of people at once in the first place. But probably few existed even capable of such a thing. That was why wars started, after all.
The things he cared about were his wife, his daughter, mythical beasts, and people who loved mythical beasts. That was all. He kept things plain and simple that way.
He wanted to protect those things that pulled him out of the darkness. It was his life’s mission.
Though he was lost in thought, Marquess Lichtenberger continued to work diligently. The tasks he thought would take an entire hour were finished in under thirty minutes.
Just like that, he found himself with nothing but time left on his hands. He even searched Rou’s cabinets and desk for work, but ended up empty-handed.
The marquess sighed unconsciously. He had no other option now but to return home.
Ever since Liselotte hit puberty, all she did was stare at him coldly. But it would still make him happy if she returned home.
Sadly, his daughter was away on an expedition at the moment.
The marquess considered sleeping at his office, but the concern his absence would bring his servants nagged at his mind.
He glanced out the window. It was too dark to even see the Tigraki now.
All Marquess Lichtenberger could do was return home.
He turned off the lights and exited his office. As he trudged along, he spotted a white mass in the hallway.
“Hm?”
It was Album. The fairy jolted upon seeing Marquess Lichtenberger’s face.
“…Album?”
“Y-Yeah…”
Had Album missed him? When the marquess approached to lift him up, Album stumbled backwards.
“Wait, Album.”
“Eeeeeek!”
He’d come to the Royal Mythical Beast Preservation Bureau, yet he fled at the mere sight of the director’s face? Irritated, Marquess Lichtenberger chased after the fairy.
“Where do you think you’re going? The only thing that way is the great hall.”
“Somebody, save me!”
It didn’t make any sense. Why would he come to the bureau so late, when everyone had already left, and then cry out for help?
The more Marquess Lichtenberger chased, the more Album attempted to flee. This made catching the fairy an impossible task, leaving the marquess gasping for breath after running so much.
The marquess clicked his tongue—an uncharacteristic expression for him.
Just what was he doing, chasing so desperately after Album? Even he found it foolish, but now that he’d started, he just couldn’t bring himself to stop.
“I told you to wait.”
“N-No waaay!”
Finally, he chased Album to the door leading to the great hall, but it was a dead end.
“There’s nowhere left to run.”
“Eeeeeeek!”
Album had tears in his eyes. Was he really that frightened? Marquess Lichtenberger felt a bit hurt, but he continued his steady approach.
“Just stay still, got it?”
“S-Stay baaack!”
With his back against the door, there was no hope for Album…until the door cracked open slightly, allowing him to slip inside the great hall.
Marquess Lichtenberger clicked his tongue for the second time. That door was supposed to be kept locked. Of all days, how could the custodian make such a mistake today? The marquess made a mental note to make the custodian write an apology later.
But right now, Album was his top priority. He needed to cast a ball of light to illuminate the dark ballroom.
Just before he began his chant, somehow, the room lit up—revealing an impossible sight.
A crowd of people were gathered around a long table full of food.
They all shouted in unison.
“Happy birthday, Lord Lichtenberger!”
“Huh?”
Once he regained function of his brain, the marquess remembered that it was, in fact, his birthday. Before him were the members of the bureau, the knights of the Second Expeditionary Squadron of Enoch, both the black and white griffins, and…
“Happy birthday, my dear.”
The woman who raced forward to hug the marquess was his wife, who’d been away for so long.
“Happy birthday, Father.”
Even Liselotte gave him a fleeting smile.
“Is this a dream?”
Those words slipped out of his mouth. It was all just so infeasible.
How could any of this be true? A surprise birthday party? At such a scale?
He wondered if perhaps he’d died in his office and was now dwelling in a dreamworld. Surely his cause of death was loneliness.
“Heavens! It’s no dream, dear.”
“Mother is right. You’ve seemed lonely ever since you severed your contract with Album, so I asked her to come home.”
“And since it just so happened to be your birthday, I thought it would be perfect to have a surprise party.”
“Why…would you do such a thing?”
“You ask that, but I can tell you’re happy.”
His wife was right. Of course Marquess Lichtenberger wasn’t displeased. He thanked each guest at the party for their attendance.